After Destiny
by Xenoglossy
Summary: What if the final battle with MaloMyotismon had gone horribly wrong? Where do the chosen children turn in an upside down world that doesn't need them anymore?
1. Fields of Innocence

**PRE FIC RANTINGS AND A SPRINKLE OF DISCLAIMER:** This fic is getting a total overhaul. I've decided that no chapter of this fic is going to be any shorter than 15 pages (as dictated by Sammy of course) so I've been squishing some stuff together and spreading some other stuff out and... um... yeah. If you've already read the three chapters I had up before, there's nothing new here. If you're just reading this for the first time, welcome aboard and hope you stay for the ride- it's going to be a long one! Introduction: this was originally supposed to be my Swan Song as far as Digimon was concerned, but since my obsession with the series has just been revived it looks as if I'll be writing Digifiction forever. ^ ^ Even so, this fic is an acculmilation of all my past efforts and... stuff (wow, my train of thought just derailed). This is an alternate future based two years after the end of 02. Things didn't go so peachy-keen as in the TV series and the world is now a dark decaying place. The Digidestined attempt to deal with the world around them as it falls apart, as well as their own difficult lives. And how does everything that's happening tie in with the original four Digidestined that Gennai once spoke of? Think of this as 02.5- Izzy Girl style. Erm, except not that cheesy. ^ ^;; Anyways, this is the new and improved chapter one (which was once chapters 1+2). Expect chapter 2 very, very soon! Digimon does not belong to me. Tokudai, Kowai, Seisaku and Kiritsubo were entirely my invention. Forgive them for being OC's- I assure you, they were 100% based on the outlines of Digidestined in Gennai's speech during the last episode of 01. Anyhoo! On with the fiction! ================================================================== After Destiny  
Izzy Girl **Part the first.** _'I still remember the worldI still remember the sun  
From the eyes of a childAlways warm on my back  
Slowly those feelingsSomehow it seems colder now  
Were clouded by what I know now  
Where has my heart gone  
Where has my heart goneTrapped in the eyes of a stranger  
An uneven trade for the real worldI want to go back to  
I want to go back toBelieving in everything'  
Believing in everything - Fields of Innocence, Evanescence  
and knowing nothing at all_ **Prolouge.** Taichi Yagami was a good leader. A faithful leader. A responsible leader. But when the time came, he was only too glad to hand the mantle of leadership over to younger, stronger shoulders. When situation demanded, Tai was always the one in charge in the end. The youthful Daisuke and Miyako, defacto leaders of the "new" digidestined, were only too glad to allow their predessesor the stresses of point blank battle decisions. But Taichi Yagami was sitting this one out. It was only fair. It was their battle. Their moment of glory. They had earned it and to take away from it by firmly assuming leadership would only be selfish, not to mention grossly unfair. The mellowed fifteen year old, during the aforementioned battle, had been seated in a manner much typical for a boy of his age, legs spread carelessly, knees bent and his arm resting across his thigh watching the events from the safety atop the valley's walls. Agumon at his side and a glorious battle spread out before him, wistful memories flooded him. Only four years ago, that was him, out in the front lines barking orders and crushing his own moral objections into ashes at his feet. Only their situation had been much more dire. They had been alone, he and his comrades, not surrounded by hundreds of people and Digimon. No. Their final battle had been dark and desperate and almost fatal. He shook his head and murmered, "Back in the days..." There was a soft chuckle from behind him. "Taichi, you sound like an old man." Taichi craned his neck backwards to meet Yamato's cold blue eyes and the blonde gazed down at him amusedly. "But I am an old man!" he insisted, grinning his classic madman grin. "Oh yes, Taichi. You're getting up there." Koushiro remarked sarcastically from behind his laptop, "Now you're all youthful and energetic, but before you know it it's dentures and depends." Taichi's expression soured and he turned his attention towards the battle. Koushiro's intelligence worked for him in more ways than one would suspect, and when given the chance, his snide comments became deadly acidic. Taichi, wisely, knew to quit while he was ahead. "Koushiro? What are depends?" "Nevermind Tentomon. It is neither something you require, or want, to know." "Those WERE the days..." Taichi commented again, his friend's sarcastic prodding having failed to derail his train of thought, "Do you remember them? Lost and wandering. Hungry and dirty. The fate of an entire world resting on our youthful and oh so idiotic shoulders..." "That was you, Tai. No we." Yamato replied drly. "Life and death hanging only by a thread..." "Please stop. You're beginning to sound like a cheesy anime." Taichi flipped his head back again and stuck his tounge out at Yamato. "Real mature Tai." "You told me to do it." The chestnut hair boy said defensively. "Told you what?" "To be leader!" "Not this again!" Koushiro groaned loudly. His typing ceased and he poked his dark eyes over the i-book monitor, "You two have been going on about it since you were twelve years old!" "Damn straight!" Taichi lept to his feet and made a fist, "And he's wrong!" Yamato crossed his thin arms and stuck his nose in the air, "Taichi... you forget. One of the BENEFITS of being a leader is that everything you do is automatically wrong." "Actually..." Koushiro broke in once again, sounding almost offhand, "There is no right or wrong in this argument. But if we must get down to it, I'M right, since the first thing Taichi did when selected leader was force all the responsibility onto me." There was a long silence. Yamato glared at Tai. Tai stared at Koushiro. Koushiro typed with a vengence. Agumon laughed. Taichi sent him a death look. 

_((flash))_

There was a multitude of blinking as Koushiro's laptop clattered to the ground and the redhead sprung forwards, gripping the cool evening grass between his long fingers. His neck was stretched out in a manner that made it seem like he was trying very hard to look for something that wasn't there. Or at least wasn't visible to human eyes. This was nothing strage. The boy tended to have an uncanny ability for seeing what normally couldn't be seen by any NORMAL person. It had nothing to do with perception and everything to do with something else that no one was quite sure of. Due to this fact, the easily distracted teenager was prone ot randomly zoning out and staring at a blank wall, or a patch of sky as if it held all the answers in the universe. And who was to say it didn't? No one knew exactly what Koushiro saw, and he himself acted as if it were nothing perculiar. Still, on that night, at that time, his manner was more distressing than usual. Lines of terror tugged at the edges of his intelligent eyes and his body shuddered in the soft, July breeze. This behavoir greatly distressed not only Yamato and Taichi, but Agumon and Tentomon as well. The four exchange confused glances before Taichi leaned down and lightly tapped Koushiro's shoulder. "Yo... Izzy? What's up?" The younger boy jumped, and turned to stare at his companions wide eyes. "I..." he moved his mouth wordlessly, then shook his head in fustration before he began again, "It's not right... can't you see it? It's not supposed to happen this way..." "What's not supposed to happen this way?" "It's not the end... not anymore... they undid it somehow and..." Taichi grabbed Koushiro's shoulder roughly and yanked the smaller induvidual to his feet, "Dammnit Izzy, quit speaking in riddles and tell us what you mean. What do you mean by it? Koushiro, what do you SEE?" "Tai..." Agumon whispered eerily, "You don't see it... do you... Izzy's right..." Silence. All eyes were focused on the small, fire-colored Digimon. "It's written in the sky." Tentomon nodded somberly, "Everything's written in the sky." "And something's wrong." The Digimon glanced at each other knowingly. Fearfully. 

_((flash))_

Koushiro spun his head as Taichi blinked. There was screaming. There was light. And the light was growing. The former digidestined leader stumbled backwards a few steps until he bumped into Yamato. The blonde was just as shocked, but placed a mediating hand on Taichi's shoulder. Both shuddered. Koushiro, with trembling hands, dantily lifted his laptop from where it had fallen, none too gracefully, on the ground. He glanced at the screen for no more than a half second before exclaiming in a voice that was all in all too calm considering the situation. "Oh. Shit." And that was when the world collapsed. Chapter 1. "It stinks down here." Daisuke Motimaya exclaimed loudly, making a great fuss as he dramatically clamped his nose between his thumb and fore finger. Iori sighed and pushed past him, flickering the beam from his large flashlight arcoss the walls, floor and ceiling of the sewer in search of what they were looking for. The only problem is that they didn't know EXACTLY what they WERE looking for. "Daisuke Motimaya. You never cease to astound me with your glowing perception. The very profoundness in your statement brings me to tears." The remark was made all the more sarcastic by the biting monotone of Iori gruff voice. "Yeah. I'm just amazing, aren't I?" It was hard to tell if the older boy was trying to be witty, or if he took Iori's faux compliment for face value. After a few more minutes of walking in monotonous silence, Iori stopped, huffed and shoved the flashlight at Daisuke. The red-head stared at it blankly before taking it in numb hands and shrugging, "Iori, what..." "Daisuke, this is useless. You know I'm more than half blind and these damned glasses don't do a thing..." as if to strengthen his point, the young boy fiddled with the ridiculously thick spectacles that rested on his nose uselessly, "I'm not asking you to do much. Just point the flashlight forwards and tell me what you see!" And that's what Daisuke did. "Well?" "Big hole." "What?" "There is a big hole of nothing where there should be a big chunk of something." Iori almost laughed. Or would've almost laughed, had he been the laughing type. And had not suddenly felt sick to his stomach at the sound of those words. "Iori? You okay?" "Six day cycle, Daisuke, right?" "Yeah, of course it's a six day cycle. Has been for the past two years." Iori nodded deftly, "Of course... but... which of the six day cycles was this particular 'chunk of something' recorded to be on?" Something flashed across Daisuke eyes that could've been fear, "Oh." He said quietly. "Oh indeed." There was a silence. Not an awkward one and not a nervous one. Simply a pause as both boys began to form important thoughts in their very different minds. "Damn! How the hell did Koushiro know?" "What?" Iori glanced at Daisuke, puzzled. "Koushiro must've known, otherwise he wouldn't have sent us to check. I was wondering about that a ways back... there's no other explaination, but HOW?" Iori shifted and rolled his small shoulders, glacing around the room through the glaze of semi-fuzzey darkness that was his world, "I don't know, Daisuke, but I don't think that is what's important right now." "Of course not. What's important is that we go find out what's causing this and kick it's big-hole-causing-ass!" Daisuke sounded particularily exuberant. Iori coughed, "Yes, well. First of all I think that we should at least focus on getting OUR asses out of this sewer." he paused carefully and turned back towards where the dim pillar of light emanating from the manhole still illuminated the exit ladder, "It stinks down here." he finished wryly, casting Daisuke a sly grin. The goggled boy laughed and followed after him. Daisuke's good humour was starkly out of place among the DigiDestined as of late, and one, upon viewing the current state of the world would find the reason rather obvious. This is the scene that greeted Iori and Daisuke as they cleared the ladder and stepped out into the foggy half daylight, coughing and sputtering as they raced to greedily suck in the fresh, afternoon air. They emerged into a narrow alleyway. The ground was slick with last night's rain and the sky a grayish-red color that looked somewhat like rust. Hikari paced nervously, close to the entrance of the manhole, biting her lip and wrapping her lavendar-colored wind breaker tighter about her body as the chilly autumn wind picked up. A little ways from her, Miyako leaned casually against the cement wall, chewing on the tip of her long cigarette as it traced lazy patterns in the air with it's barely gray smoke. Her fuzzy sweater was formfitting and she struggled to keep her skirt knee length as it danced rebelliously in the breeze. Koushiro was hunched over his glowing laptop, furrowing his brow curiously at what he saw, and obviously very displeased. He was muttering, but aside from that, the group was silent. There were no Digimon. And if one took the time to notice, the world about them seemed... off. The colors were not as vibrant as they should be, and occasionally something would flicker in the corner, and suddenly, something wasn't there, or had changed subtly. Most of the buildings were hollowed by fire, and there were not too many areas of Japan a person would care to stroll around in alone, or with a friend. The harsh reality was that Myotismon had been a lot more ruthless and, and much more intelligent, than many had given him credit for. He had done what so few villians realize is necessary... he prepared for defeat. Daisuke remembered it clearly. He had been out in front, shouting something back to the others. He couldn't remember exactly what it was, the memory was all faded now, like an old polaroid that begins to dull and bleed. The final blow had been struck and Myotismon cried out in pain. Victory was assumed and as the fiend fell, the masses cheered. But then, it happened. The white light began to pulsate. The celebrative noises slowly dissapated until the shouts of joy were scattered and nervous. Hikari fainted and Takeru looked sick, a sure sign that something terribly wrong. Somewhere to Daisuke's left, Ken cried out and gripped his head in pain. "The sky..." Palidramon muttered absently in his forceful, dual voice, "Something... went wrong..." It was then that the red head made his fateful decision. He began to run towards the light. There was neither rhyme nor reason to his action, but at the time, it made sense to him, all the while, the Digimon's hauting words echoing in his mind. He remembered the footsteps behind him. He had run faster, but Ken had caught his hand. The momentum propelled the both of them forwards into the light. As the barrier was broke, all sight and sound died out, and then, there was only darkness. When the dust had settled, the world was... different. It felt artificial... dying... unright. Daisuke did remember Ken's small and frightened words: "The Digital World... is gone... I... I can't feel Wormmon..." Others would relate the horror of the Digimon's death. The slow, systematic crumbling of them. Somehow, the Digital World and the Real World had melded... melted into each other. Koushiro explained it like this: "Y'see... sometimes worlds, erm, bump. There's no other way to explain it without me going into a load of technical jarbon that you wouldn't understand... anyways, when world's bump, usually they will bounce back off each other with only minimal changes so subtle that no one really notices. Like, maybe your best friend's hair changes color, or your dad's boss is suddenly Mr. Fuji instead of Mr. Takiyari... but the problem with the Digital world is that it's just a shadow world of our earth, not another world entirely, so the bump, erm, had repercussions. I'm sure most of you remember what happened after our first battle with Myotismon all those years ago, right? Well, originally, from what Gennai and I have figured, the Dark Masters had planned to... well, not bump, but crash the two worlds together, hoping that the Digital world would eventually win and become the only reality for this universe... I guess they knew it wasn't right having two worlds occupy the same space in the continuim. Well... Myotismon studied this during his many years living inside Mr. Oikawa and discovered a way to do this using a trigger. He set more than one up, of course, in case of variables that might affect the situation. In our case, two of the seals were tripped. The first, Myotismon did himself by letting those not compatiable with the Digital World in... unfortunately, we tripped the second... the moment Myotismon was felled. As genius as he might have been, he didn't plan for that, and it had an adverse effect he had never considered... instead of one world dying and the other one expanding into it, both worlds are expanding into each other. Both worlds are slowly being destroyed." It was a terrifying prospect, and one Koushiro had little doubts about coming to pass. "All we can do..." he had sighed regretfully, "Is watch, record and clean up the mess... eventually we might find a pattern..." "Pattern my ASS!" Daisuke shouted upon setting his feet on solid ground. Iori, who was still in the process of dragging himself out from the sewer rolled his eyes and muttered irritatedly to himself. "Hmm?" Koushiro barely glanced up from his laptop, "It wasn't there?" "A big fucking hole of nothing," Daisuke affirmed, pressing his back into the wall and placing his hands on his hips, "You didn't tell us that there would be nothing!" Koushiro hmmed again, "It's to be expected... if both worlds are deteriorating, I would have guessed that eventually parts of each would begins to dissapear entirely... don't be so surprised, Daisuke..." Daisuke kicked a rock and snorted. Hikari looked up suddenly. "Izzy... doesn't this... well, doesn't this unravel the pattern you had been forming? Ken was explaining it to me the other day, and it didn't seem like... well... I hadn't thought you had taken such things into consideration." "I was frightened that he had..." Miyako cut in, glancing at Hikari meaningfully. "Well... I had it in mind..." Koushiro answered guardedly, "Let's just say that..." Suddenly, he slammed his notebook shut and rose violently, "Okay. We'd better get out of here... it's no good staying in one place too long." "Amen to that!" Miyako crushed her cigarette daintily with the edge of her toe and pushed off from the wall. The others began to slowly file out of the alley, still not speaking. Iori lingered a moment and glanced back. The manhole was gone. He blinked, rubbed his glasses on the edge of his sleeve and looked again. The manhole was there again. He shook his head, scolding himself about being paranoid and quickly followed after the others. + The bar was small and unkempt and on the edge of the ocean. Everything in it was fireproof and lightweight, ready to be moved at any given moment, a sure sign of the times. The fuzzy radio was tuned to an American station and the sound of lonesome, outdated english music surrounded the scattered drinkers like the very stuffy air they breathed. From the look of them, you would have thought that maybe they were absorbing the music. Most of it's occupants suffered from post-Digital depression. Once rich business tycoons, or those who had lost their family, were the sorts one expected to see wasting away their scant pennies on flat, warmed booze. The bar-keep had long since stopped tying to keep underaged drinkers out of his establishment. There were too many orphaned teenagers to deny them solace anymore, and a few in particular who returned almost every day. One of these was once a familiar face, though everyone was too caught up in their own misery to notice. At least three times a week, a boy of no more than fifteen would stroll into the bar, head down, hands in pocket, and sit at the smallest table, closest to the window. He never ordered anything, just sat and stared at the ocean. A woman once asked him why he did this, and he only replied: "I like to keep an eye on the ocean... I'm afraid it might turn black again." These words were cryptic at beast, and after that, no one approached the strange boy. He was thin and unhealthy looking with a gaunt face and sunken eyes. He always wore black, which complemented his smooth, dark hair, but offset his dangerously pale face. Despite his general appearance of unkemptness, a shimmer of rare, almost feminine beauty, showed in his narrow, pale eyes, smooth lips and high cheekbones. It showed in the graceful, thoughtless manner he moved and the softness of his gentle voice. This boy was Ken Ichijouji, and despite everything, the beauty of his kind, but tortured, spirit still managed to shine through. He always sat alone. The bar-keep turned his head at the light tingle of wind chimes, a sign that someone had just entered the bar. He eyed the newcomer as the door swung closed behind her and noted that she was young, but not quite so young as some of the woman who came by. She was plain because of her coarse, auburn hair, pulled back into a loose pony-tail, but startling because of her dark eyes, the most peculiar shade of brown which looked deep ruby in the dim light. She was well groomed and quiet moving and every eye in the bar followed her silent footsteps as she walked to the table in the corner and very calmly took a seat across from the boy watching the ocean. "Ken..." she whispered. The boy made a start and jumped, staring at her with wide, sky-colored eyes. He stared at her decisively, as if he didn't recognize her, then folded his hands on the table top. "What is it Sora?" The bar, once filled wiht only silence and the sound of some late-fifties crooner, suddenly erupted in murmers. Even drunk, there were few who didn't recognize such famous names as Sora Takenouchi and THE Ken Ichijouji. Both winced, surveyed the crowd, then glanced back at each other hopelessly. Though they were still doing everything in their power to make things right again, many believed that it was the Digidestined who had caused the whole mess in the first place. Not many people in Japan cared enough about the issue to hold too many firm beliefs about it, they were too busy trying to survive, but in other countries, mainly the United States and some of the stronger European nations, were not in such dire straights. Basically, the problem started in Japan, and spread outwards. There was even a myth that the end of the world has appeared in Tokyo three weeks earlier. This being the case, most of the world blamed Japan, and the Digidestined in particular, fo the incident. Humans being as humans are, most figured the problem would just go away if anough bombs were dropped. The world was on the brink of a nuclear war to top things off, and for this reason, Taichi had advised everyone to keep a somewhat low profile. Sora leaned towards Ken and lowered her voice further, "Ken. Taichi's called a meeting. Looks like Koushiro's made an important breakthrough and... well, it's probably better that you come." Ken made a weak 'hmm'ing noise and dropped his gaze, "A meeting then... seems like there's nothing better these days..." "What do you mean?" Ken didn't answer, but stood abruptly, motioning with his chin towards the exit. Sora nodded knowingly, and with as little commotion as possible, the two left. When out in the street, Ken sighed heavily and watched the ground as he walked, "I meant that it hardly seems like we do anything... well... for ourselves lately." Sora jogged a few steps to keep up with his hasty pace. She looked simple and very stable with her neatly cut jean jacket and tightly tied hair, next to Ken, whose dark jacket and unkempt locks spilled out behind him in the harsh, acidic wind. 'The air doesn't smell like Earth anymore...' Iori had once said cryptically. Koushiro answered, 'It doesn't quite smell like the Digital World either...' Sora had always thought that it smelt like death. "Ken... you know that we... we don't have time for that kind of thing. It would be wildly unfair if we stopped and..." she caught herself and exhaled, "What am I saying... it's really sad, isn't it?" "It's something Daisuke said to me the other day that got me thinking..." Ken explained, "He said, 'Oh my God Ken, I'm fourteen!' I didn't quite understand exactly what he meant by it- sometimes it's hard to tell if he's really, actually being profound or if he's just being himself- but we've literally taken the world on our shoulders these last few years, isn't it time for a break?" Sora shook her head firmly, "No. Never. Not as long as..." she looked to her right as she passed a wall, once clean and white cement but now decayed, with lines of unreadeable Digital code running through it. She continued heavily, "Not as long as things are the way they are... No one else can do anything." "And neither can we, obviously." There was no anger or bitterness in Ken's voice, only a soft loss of resolve. A defeated sort of tone. Sora opened her mouth to reply, only to find that there was nothing to say. She bit her lip and looked at her feet as they moved mechanically on the hard pavement. Neither of them said a word more. + Hikari used to wonder if after it was all said and done, the Digidestined, once the closest of unbreakable friends, would eventually drift apart. It seemed an obvious enough assumption that they would, after all, time and circumstance pulled even the closest of people away from each other. Yamato always talked about moving to America, of Europe. Making his music a bit more mainstream in other countries. Miyako was just itching to get out of Odaiba when she was old enough, and Iori longed to see the Himalayas before he died. Taichi wanted to become a proffesional soccer player, Jyou intended to move to Tokyo to open up a practice and Daisuke was hell bent on opening a Ramen Shop. There was no possible way for the twelve of them to prusue their dreams and stay close to each other at the same time. It was a terrible, yet sensible fear that constantly lived in the back of their minds. Now, she reflected, it had been all but forgotten. Even worse, their friendship was now borne more of necessity, than actual affection. Hikari watched them file into Taichi's small, one bedroom apartment, divided and defeated. Taichi was sitting alone, looking out of the window with a dark expression upon his face, Koushiro was sitting near him, staring at the ceiling and biting his lip. His laptop was stationary on his knees and his arms resting across it. Neither spoke. Yamato leaned casually against one wall, arms crossed and left leg supporting him. Mimi laid in the middle of the floor, utterly exahausted and chatting quietly with Miyako, who sat cross-legged by her head. Iori and Takeru sat to either side of Hikari herself, both solemn and tense at the same time. Daisuke paced impatiently, stopping every few steps to run a worried hand through his ruffled, burgandy hair. Sora and Ken were currently AWOL. These were not the DigiDestined of the past. These were not the DigiDestined thrown together by fate, growing and learning together and loving each other unconditionally... these were the DigiDestined thrown together by failure, kept together only by faded memories and the faintest traces of feeling. The rusted door creaked in protest as Sora lightly propped it open. She stepped gracefully into the room, followed by the ever downcast Ken. She calmly took a seat beside Koushiro, exchanged a knowing glance with him, and then folded her hands. Ken gently grabbed Daisuke's arm to stop the younger boy from pacing and both sat near the door, on the other side of Yamato. There was a poignant silence. And then Taichi spoke. "Everyone's here?" All murmered weakly in response. Still, they would look instictively to their sides for Digimon partners. Taichi turned from the window and face his troops. He was ragged and aged looking, but the deep, red scar running down the left side of his face was common place by now. Only Sora and Yamato would wistfully whisper about the Taichi they once knew and loved; jovial, emotional and caring, but even they would agree in the end that this post-apocolyptic persona he had taken on was more in tune with his surroundings. He glanced coldly at Koushiro, "So, what's the news Izzy?" Koushiro nodded deeply and stood, his entire exterior changing fluidly from reserved, polite, computer-geek Koushiro to second-in-command, General Izumi. His voice was more forceful and his manner more compelling. He didn't stutter, didn't flinch, hardly showed any emotion at all. He had always been like that- able to set aside his own personal conflicts and get done what needed to be done- Hikari had always admired and detested that in him. He said: "According to my predictions, the unraveling has indeed begun and right on scheduel I might add. This morning Daisuke and Iori confirmed our first section of 'dissapeared land'- in other words, the Digital World at least, is beginning to... well... simply cease to exist, and it won't be long before our world starts to follow suit." Taichi growled, "Well, we can fix it, can't we?" Koushiro bit his thumb, "Well... you see... I'm not quite sure about that. Nothing we've done during the past two years has helped any, but..." "You have a theory." Daisuke blurted out, rolling his eyes. Ken shot him an icy look. "Doesn't he always?" Mimi said lightheartedly, giving Koushiro the thumbs up as she pulled herself into a sitting position. Koushiro winked in a manner very much not like himself, "Not one that I'm sure will work, but I think it's quite possible for us to learn how to use our Digivices..." he paused, and searched his peers for reaction. There was none. He coughed loudly, and continued, "I mean... learn how to use them as in... harness their power, the kind that we're usually only able to fuel." This earned a fair amount of gasps and wide-eyed looks from the group. "So, what... you're saying we'd be able to Digivolve?" Takeru asked skeptically, rubbing his neck sorely. Koushiro shook his head, "No. That's not what I mean at all. We're not data, it's impossible for us to Digivolve, but it IS possible for us to manipulate digital energy and... well, *change* things..." Yamato snapped his fingers as he slammed his left foot to the ground, sapphire eyes burning excitedly, "It's exactly like what we've been doing all these years to our Digital partners!" "I understand!" Sora exclaimed, "You mean that we were changing them. Manipulating their very structure based on our own emotions!?" "Yes." Koushiro answered simply. "If we DID learn how to do this..." Taichi interrupted, "And that's not garunteeing that we ever will,. how will it help matters?" Koushiro grinned madly, "It's actually quite simple. We could manipulate the stray digital energy into... gates of some sort... we could clog the holes and eventually set up a dam that would keep our world slipping into theirs and vice versa." "Wait..." Hikari stood up suddenly, her voice and stance dripping with righteous resolve, "I forsee problems with this plan..." she paused and wrapped her small hand around the whistle hanging at her neck... the whistle she had given th\o Gatomon after that first summer in the Digital World, "If we do that... then wouldn't all the energy of the Digital World exist simply to hold that dam? To keep our world safe? We'd be able to rebuild OUR world, but how would... how would THEIR world ever be the same again...?" Koushiro opened his mouth to say something, then stopped himself. He fidgeted akwardly and shrugged stiffly, General Izumi rapidly losing ground "Well... Hikari... I... I haven't exactly figured that out... it's quite possible that we could... that is, we would be able to change the energy again but if it could be done... and I'm not saying it can be... it would take years." "How many." Hikari demanded. "Well... too many... we'd be dead long before we got anywheres." "Dead!?" Daisuke exclaimed. Koushiro laughed nervously, "Yes... well... that's the other kink in the plan, so to say... I'm not sure if any of you were aware of this, but manipulating digital energy signifigantly shortens one's life span... the energy required for us to even dam the flow right now would shorten our lives by a little less than half." The room was full of blinking and horrifyed silence. Only Ken, who stared blankly at Daisuke's shoe seemed un-affected by the revelation. Daisuke spoke, as he oftenm did when no one else had anything to say, "Who cares?" "What?" Miyako glared at her friend viciously, "Did you not get that, Dais? We'd die at... at 40!" "So?" Daisuke shrugged and chuckled, "We're Digidestined. It's what we do." "Daisuke has a point." Koushiro nodded gravely, "It's not for us to decide what to do with our lives any more... we do what's right." Yamato scoffed, "It came in the job description under 'hero', isn't that right, Yagami?" he shot Taichi a wry look and for a moment, it seemed as if they were as they had been back in the Digital World days... two young boys, always looking to get the better of each other. Hikari nearly smiled... except that before Taichi had a chance to grin back at the blonde, his face set sternly and he folded his arms angrily. "There's no question about what we have to do. We follow Koushiro's plan." "It was a theory, Tai." Koushiro reminded, "Just a suggestion." "Still, it's the only one we've got." "But Tai!" Hikari exclaimed, "If we do this, the Digimon will never come back! Don't any of you understand that!" No one answered. Hikari sat down, tears forming in her soft, hazel eyes. Takeru tenatively wrapped his arm around the width of her shoulders, and she leaned into him gratefully. It had been a long two years, and she fore saw a long road ahead of them **Interlude.** "_I have been one aquainted with night._" the girl said, her eyes fixed tiredly on the unfamiliar patterns in the sky. Her voice was thin and strained, and her eyes laden heavy due to lack of sleep. She leaned back lightly on her knuckles, yawning every so often but continuing in her quiet monolouge, "_I have walked in rain and back in rian. I have outwalked the farthest city light. Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right, I have been one aquainted with night._" "Interesting." the older man smiled at her side. He was tall and handsome, with cropped brown hair pulled back in a tail and dressed in flowing, white and brown robes. He had a wide, smiling face and crinkled worry lines, but something in his eyes didn't quite seem... real... "But what is it?" "Robert Frost." the dark boy answered without hesitation in his dulled monotone. The fire flickered thin shadows across his pale features, and his garb, dark as night, devoured all light's attempt at reaching him, "Famous poet. Wrote many wise things." he glanced lifelessly at the girl, "That's one of my favourites." "It suits you, Saku." the last boy muttered drowsily, his fluffy head of chestnut hair resting on his jean-clad knees. He was nearly asleep, "Things like that all suit you. Night and dark and stuff like that." "How prolific, Toku..." the dark boy rolled his eyes and the man and girl laughed. "Of course, that's our Tokudai!" she excalimed sleepily. "Well, to tell you the truth, Ko..." the dark boy began, "I'm not sure whether to take it as compliment or not." he raised a black eyebrow and the girl laughed again. "I'm never sure whether to take ANYTHING Tokudai takes as compliment or insult." "I suppose the best we can do," the man added, "Is simply take it for face value." Both nodded, and finally, the girl lost the battle and nodded off to sleep, falling face first into the robed man's shoulder. He smiled, and slowly, closed his eyes. The dark boy followed suit, and soon, there was only the deep silence of a Digital World's midnight encircling the small camp. **/Interlude.** Contrary to popular belief, Jyou Kido was not, in fact, planning on becoming a doctor. ... well... techinically he was. He had all the training. He had been in med-school earning his pre-doctrined, then eventually a phD. He had been regularily volunteering at random hospitals. He knew medical terms, could diagnose any diesease, disorder, sickness, metal illness, ect. this side of Tokyo but still, it was not what he was planning to do. Despite all apperances, Mr. Kido was a very aimless, lost and wandering young man. When he looked ahead to his future, he saw a blank space in the time continuim. He could see anyone else's future- Yamato's, as he climed the ladder of rock-star fame; Hikari's, as she taught her first elementary school class; Sora, selling her first article; but no matter how hard he tried to invision his own fate, there was nothing except a slight feeling of rising dread in his stomach. It was no surprise, then, taking all this into consideration, that at this very moment, Jyou was asking himself exactly what the hell he was doing, hands in gloves buried inside a middle-aged woman's chest, searching for a piece of Digital sharpnel that was slowly killing her. He was very nearly hyper ventialating- Jyou had always hated blood. Sometimes he thought that the great crumbled was a blessing of sort. Tending for people hurt by the mistakes of the DigiDestined gave him a renewed purpose in life. Sure, he was a doctor, which he would've most likely been anyways, but at least he was a doctor with purpose- a doctor with a mission. He was force into the proffesion by means far beyond his miniscule control, and that was quite fine with him. That's simply the kind of person he was. He was very good at it, as well. Perhaps, he often mused, it was meant to be. Word of his name spread quickly (there were very few doctors left in Japan willing to operate on Digital World related inguries- Jyou specialized in it), but still, despite the hundreds he had treated in the past two years, it continued to astound him how many sensible adults were willing to trust a nineteen year old boy with scraggly hair and foggy glasses to poke about their insides. There was a catch, of course. "Heeeey...." the woman had peered at him curiously over her handbag, "Aren't you one of those... those Children? What do they call them... DigiDestined?" Jyou's throat caught and he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose nervously, "Uh... no.. that was a... a Shyou Kido. No relation. I assure you." Not to say that he had completely cut his ties with the Digidestined, that would, after all, be near to impossible, but he DID have apperances to keep and his work was demanding and strenious. Which is why he had the full and unwavering permission from Taichi to miss as many meetngs as he felt necessary without prior notice. Jyou wiped his brow and motioned to his nurse with his hand. She fluttered her eyelashes (she had been crying again. The poor girl had barely started med school when it happened, but there was no one else willing to take the job) and she reached shakily for thread and needle. Jyou took them with a grateful nod and bent down, setting himself to the sweaty, percise work. He balked at the shoddy supplies. He was not using actual medical thread, but thread from a sewing kit Sora had secured for him. It was thin and frail, but all they had to work with. Medical supplies were scarce as it was, and the "real" hospitals always first priority. Jyou just warned his patients to be careful and mind their scars. When the job was done he pulled away hastily from the patient, signalling for his nurse to take over. He burst from the small, dirty operating room with fervour, pulling down his surgeon's mask and vigoriously gasping in the fresh air. "Bad day at the office, Dr. Kido?" Jyou blinked in surprise and stared at his 'reception area'. A kid, barely eleven years old and wearing ugly, perscription glasses was seated in one of the shoddy, dust-covered waiting chairs with his arms crossed and his eyes closed. Jyou recognized him immedietly, even despite the dull, monotonous tone he conveyed, but it took him a moment longer to process why, exactly, Iori Hida even KNEW where his practice was located. "This isn't a place for children, Iori." he said firmly. "I'm not a child." it wasn't meant to be a protest, there was no intonation to suggest it. Iori meant it as a simple, truthful comment. Jyou sighed and massaged his temples. It had been a bad day, "How did you find this place?" "Oh, it wasn't too hard... I just asked around Ken's usual haunt... it's a bar by the ocean, built where the dockyard used to be, you know the place..." Jyou nodded, "Well... there aren't too many people around who don't know of a young and talented surgeon specializing in Digiwounds... considering you're the only one in all of Japan who actually half knows what he's doing." Jyou nodded again, "Fair enough. But that doesn't explain why you went looking." Iori opened his half blind eyes and fixed an unsettling gaze on the older DigiDestined. It was creepy mostly because Jyou knew exactly what the young boy was seeing... not much more than a white, shadow-wrapped blur, "I decided that it might be useful for you to know exactly what goes on during these meetings you so casually miss, and today's was most enlightening." Jyou chuckled appreciatively. Iori hadn't changed much on the surface in the years since the final battle, but his outlook on life had soured and very nearly withered away completely. He lived his life as if he were at constant odds with everyone and everything around him and had to keep at least three steaps ahead of the hurricane brewing in his imagination. It had to do, in no small part, to his partial loss of eyesight. One could only imagine what it must be like lliving in a world of only slanted, black angels and the faintest smudges of color, even through visual correction lenses. Just like deafness makes one paranoid, blindness makes one catious. Jyou had the sense to realize that at the moment, he was caught in one of the boy's tenative mind games. He had learned the best thing to do in such a sitution was to bend. Iori was a lot smarter than he could ever hope to be. "Well then, I suppose you're going to fill me in whether I'd appreciate it or not..." Jyou leaned against his dusty reception desk, no more than three pieces of wood nailed together haphazardly, and waited. "You're covered in blood." Iori observed quietly. Jyou looked himself over and shuddered slightly. The boy was indeed right and the blue-haired doctor realized none too happily that this was his usual state of dress, "What does that have to do with anything?" "It gives you a resonable excuse for missing out on us today... though I thought Koushiro told you to come." "Mmm-Hmmm. It was important." "Koushiro developed a plan. I think we're going to need you for this one, Doctor Kido." + It was in the top drawer of his badly made desk. The space was otherwise unoccupied. Jyou somehow felt that it would be a betrayal of sorts towards Gomamon to place his Digivice in a cluttered space, shoved beneath heaps of complicated medical textbooks or piles of patient waiting lists. The drawer was barren and the small device sat serenly at it's center, dim as if in peaceful sleep. Or dead. Koushiro had said, many years ago, that the Digimon were physical representations of the power held within the Digivices. He later revised his opinion to say that the Digivices were, in fact, a physical representation of the bond between human and Digimon and not the other way around. _"Like the chicken and the egg, eh Koushiro?" Yamato had commented snidely, only half listening as he polished his harmonica. "No, Yamato." Koushiro had shook his head soundly, "It's nothing like that. The Digimon were around for eons in their time before the Digivice." "Yet another lovely little mystery of the Digital World..." Taichi said through a muffled yawn, "But if you don't mind, I think everyone would rather get some sleep than ponder your fascinating little theory. Sorry Izz." _ Jyou had thought about it a great deal that night, but never really considered the subject again until the day Gomamon left. The Digivice, which had always hummed silently with a quiet, glowing life had suddenly stopped that day. It felt cold and empty and Jyou had since been too terrifyed to touch it. So it had been shoved away in a dark, little corner of the office, hidden but most certainly not forgotten until the need for it arose again. "You carry yours with you?" Jyou asked in surprise as Iori slipped his own Digivice onto the crooked desk surface. Iori nodded, "Out of respect for Arujimon." "I still respect Gomamon..." Jyou said defensively, reaching into the desk and scooping out the cold device with a twinge of sadness tugging at his heart. "I know." the child answered, "But your respect is different than mine. Everyone's is. You know, Ken won't even talk about Wormon." Jyou nodded somberly and stared for a long moment at the Digivices, their dark screens speaking volumes of the void he felt deep in his soul, like a vital part of him had been torn out in Gomamon's absence. "I... don't think that this is a good idea." he said hesitantly, sparing Iori a glance. "Why is that?" "Well... you know, Izzy will probably show us. I don't think we need to figure it out for ourselves... I mean..." he coughed purposefully and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, unable to still the quell of his long-instinctual caution, "We might make a mistake, Iori. You know... mess something up in the scheme of things." "We won't." "How do you know?" "It would be impossible." Iori explained implaceably, "We have to find it out for ourselves, otherwise it won't work." He fixed filmy emerald eyes on Jyou evenly, "Don't you understand that the Digivices are tuned to us especially? Everyone would have a different way of connecting. Koushiro explained it all. He can't teach us how." Jyou gulped and accepted this answer, as it seemed resonable enough, but still, one other question pried on his mind, "Well... then why did you come to me? Why not just do this on your own?" "Because I trust you." Iori answered simply, "I don't trust myself." "Fair enough... well then, what exactly are we supposed to be doing." "I don't know. I don't think anyone does. There is no right thing to do, it must be instinct." "Great..." Jyou muttered under his breath, "Um..." he said aloud, "Shouldn't we... touch them at the very least?" Iori blinked widely and chuckled, "Sometimes, Jyou, I really do feel your senior despite the fact you were already in school when I was born." he sighed, "I can't think of anything else but to... think. Focus your thoughts on something that needs to be fixed..." Iori's pale eyes scanned the room fruitlessly until they fixed blurrily on the wall, near the door. It was red with code running both horizantal and vertical. Beneath the strange characters was a translucent mist, through which a thick, exotic looking forest was visiable, "See the wall and think of Gomamon. Picture the wall as it was before it looked like that and then imagine Gomamon and his strength of will." Jyou tenatively reached out his left palm and closed it aroung the Digivice. He stared sternly at the wall and thought fiercly, searching his memories for it's greedily stored Gomamon moments. The Digivice felt warm for a moment when his mind picked a particular moment, Gomamon entertaining the entire group for a whole sticky afternoon as they wandered Server's massive desert. Even the shamed Taichi, dragging along in the back, cradling a sleeping Koromon in his arms was forced to smile at the Digimon's antics. Jyou blinked once, and suddenly, where once there was Digital World, there was wall. The spectacled boy dropped the Digivice in shock. It hit the desk and clattered loudly to the floor, where it lay, blank and cold as ever. Iori was staring at him and the wall flickered back, once again mist and code. "Was I... I'm seeing things." he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes before placing them back on the bridge of his nose, "I could have sworn that the wall..." "You let it go." Iori grumbled, "I couldn't hold it on my own... but I think I can now. Watch." Iori closed his eyes and whispered something undistinguishable under his breath and suddenly, the wall was normal again. Iori opened his eyes, but this time the wall stayed. "Is that... is that what Koushiro expects us to do?" Jyou asked breathlessly, still bewildered and slightly frazzled. "Apparently... but he's hoping that somehow, if we all combine that power we can... well not so much fix it as stop it." Jyou nodded dumbly, "I... I see..." he sighed and gave Iori a wry glance, "So, what's the catch..." + Koushiro Izumi swore softly as he rattled his stubborn keys against the might of his apartment's padlock, then louder when he found that he could not witthdraw the offending key from the door unless he were to miraculously force the thing open. It fustrated him that for all his unmeasured genius he still often lost these incessant battles against such ordinary, everyday objects. It seemed as if most domestic items were determined to make his life miserable. His radio refused to tune into any of Japan's plentiful news networks, his shower rarely delivered hot water, his toaster constatly blackened toast against his will and his door ALWAYS took approximately eight minutes and thirty eight seconds to open. It was being particularly antagonistic this evening, Koushiro observed, as he had been struggling with the simple lock for nearly ten minutes. Finally, as he was on the verge of surrendering and ringing the landlord, there was a click and the door fell open, nearly dragging the young red head with it. Koushiro straightened himself and viciously ripped his keychain from keyhole, his actions from that point on uncharactersitically violent. He kicked off his muddy boots and slipped quickly into a soft pair of indoor slippers (adorned, of course, with various aquatic mammals). He flopped thankfully into his worn arm chair, the only piece of furniture in the entire apartment, not even bothering to removed his green raincoat and sighed out the day's stress. It would work, he told himself, it was their only option and if Hikari had not pointed out the obvious morality issue, no one would have noticed. Except, of course, Koushiro himself who had spent an entire night pacing his living room, wondering how wise it was to bring this new theory to Taichi's attention. Their leader, of course, ignored all considerations of right or wrong in his subjective quest for victory. _"Who cares if it's right or not, Izzy! Don't you understand, WE have a responsibility!" _Which roughly translated to: _"I don't care what you say, Koushiro, I have a mission to relieve myself of self inflicted guilt and nothing short of my own death is going to stop me."_ Koushiro closed his eyes and sunk into the enfolds of what was once his adoptive father's reading chair. Kaasan and Otosan had dissapeared during that final battle with Myotismon and Koushiro had never set out searching for them as many others had their parents. He knew they were dead with that sort of sickening, soul searing certainty and there was no reason to confirm the horrible fact. He didn't miss them as much as he had hoped his would, and often worried about his lack of emotional attatchment. He thought sometimes, what would he feel if it had been one of teh Digidestined- Tai, Sora, Yamato- who hadn't survived the battle. Would he still have been able to get on with his life, or would he break apart like Ken had at the sight of his parent's mangled bodies (_"I never said goodbye... they never knew..."_). "I shouln't be living by myself." he muttered, opening his eyes and staring at his disorginized home, "It gives me too much time to think..." It was a bachelor apartment what once had been Odaiba. Now it was the slums. All the rent was free and the people essentially refugees who had lost everything and were unable to sustain themselves anywhere else in Japan. Most children and teenagers who had lost parents were holed up in dirty apartment buildings much in the same manner Koushiro was. Seeing as Koushiro didn't spend much of his time at home, the place was a hopeless mess. Dirty dishes, discarded clothing and masses upon masses of Digital World related notes itched at the boy's tidy, Japanese upbringing, but he remained unable to do anything permenant about it. Whenever he found himself a few hours of free time to clean, it always ended up an abhorrent mess less than three days later, so what was the use? The red head reached weakly for his laptop where he had dropped it and unfolded it on his lap. It chimed cheerfully as he did so and the screen lit almost blindingly. Koushiro raised a thick eyebrow in puzzlement... he hadn't even turned it on. His laptop often pulled strange stunts like this. It's experiences in the Digital World had given it a life and, it sometimes seemed, a mind of it's own. There was no loading screen this time, only black and the faint blinking of a white line, as if it were expecting Koushiro to write something. He didn't need much more of an invitation. His nimble fingers flew across the sensitive keyboard. 'Hello'. he typed. The words came up in the language of the Digital World, burned on the screen for a moment, then dissapeared. 'Are you Digital?' he typed, words once again converted to the Digital language. This time, there was a reply. Grey characters flooded screen after screen and Koushiro's mind worked furiously to process the information before it dissapeared. It was mostly nonsense, but his photographic memory stored it away for further analysis. This continued for a very long time until finally, the screen was blank again. Very slowly, letters appeared on the screen symbol by symbol. They read: 'My name is Gennai.' 


	2. Ode to My Family

After Destiny  
Izzy Girl _'Understand the things I sayUnderstand what I've become  
don't turn away from meIt wasn't my design  
'cause I spent my life out thereAnd people everywhere think  
you wouldn't disagreesomething better than I am  
do you see this, do you see?but I miss you, I miss  
do you notice, do you know?'cause I liked it, I liked it  
do you see me, oh do you see me?When I was out there  
does anyone care?do you know this, oh do you know?  
you did not find me, you did not find  
does anyone care?'_  
- Ode to My Family, The Cranberries **Interlude** "Do you really think she's human?" "She looks human enough." "Well... you can't be sure. That Gennai dude looked pretty human... I don't think it's a good idea." "She's just a little girl!" "You don't know that!" "Well, there's really only one way to find out." Seisaku Ikari only observed the heated exchange with crossed arms and a blank expression. He really didn't care either way, but found these frequent arguments between his two travelling companions none the less fascinating. Kowai Senbetsu and Tokudai Kimagure... one would be hard pressed to find two more starkly different induviduals but sometimes if Seisaku looked deep enough, he saw a glimmer in their eyes. A shared trait, perhaps, that personality flaw that caused both to think they were undoubtedly right in all situations. In Tokudai, it was caused by over confidence. He had been a jock back in the real world, and a very popular one at that, how could he not help but be sure of himself when he had spent his life being told he was right by everyone surrounding him, even when he was long. Kowai was the exact opposite, but in her rested a self assurance that surprassed even Toku's- she was a super genius and very aware of it. Her superior intelligence gave her the right to claim clear judgement. Unlike Tokudai, who always thought he was right, Kowai usually was. Tokudai grimaced at her and refused to meet her gaze. She had won this one. The chestnut hair boy cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted out to the solitary figure on the hill. "HEY! YOU! LITTLE GIRL!" he paused, "ARE YOU HUMAN!?" "Oh, very subtle..." Kowai scoffed, folding her thin arms across her chest. Tokudai shrugged, "Well, at least it's to the point. She's just a kid anyways, not like she's gonna be all offended or something." he looked out at the hill again. The figure had neither answered nor moved. Toku seemed a bit put off by this. He bit his lip and turned back to Kowai, "Hey, Ko. Maybe she's not ever real." "What if she didn't hear you? Shout again." Tokudai sighed heavily and brought his hands to his mouth again, "HEY! YOU THERE ON THE HI-" he cut himself off abruptly as the girl's head jerked to look over her shoulder. He stumbled backwards into Sei's shoulder, clutching his chest, "I was not expecting that..." he said quietly. "You're certainly the mind over matter type." Kowai chuckled, "It's sad that you had yourself so convinced she wasn't going to answer... how did you ever manage to make it to thirteen?" Sei shoved Tokudai forwards and the boy glared at both his companions bitterly, "Geeze... you both hate me, don't you?" he focused his gaze sharply on Seisaku, "You've been quiet today, Seisaku, what do you think about all of this?" Sei shrugged, "I don't care either way." Toku snorted, "Hmph. Should have known better than to ask you anything in the first place. You just..." for the second time in four minutes, Tokudai was cut off mid sentence as he noticed the girl from the hill had gathered herself and was now standing among the group of three, staring up at Tokudai as if he were doing something horribly strange. He blinked fearfully before taking a step backwards. The girl still stared. From her looks she couldn't have been anything but human. She was small and delicate, her wide childish face set with large, brown eyes and framed with scraggly brown hair that looked as if it needed ot be washed. It was half hanging out of a pink ribbon that matched her shorts and the trim of her t-shirt. The shirt was decorated with a yellow illustration of a cat and the words: 'nyu nyu'. It was also smeared with dirt. She looked to be the typical Japanese child, except for her ragged apperance, but there was something in the set of her gaze that was unnerving. Seisaku boted this, and would describe it later as almost inhuman. Kowai was taken with her immidietly. She dropped to her knees, long red pigtails obscuring her profile, and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Hello. My name is Kowai Senbetsu. Who are you?" The girl didn't answer, but she did stare at Kowai instead of Toku. The boy breathed a sigh of relief and allowed his shoulders to unknot themselves. "Do you understand me? Do you speak Japanese?" "Well, obviously she's Japanese..." Toku muttered, "Look at her... and that shirt..." "Shh!" Kowai shot Tokudai a dangerous glare from her black eyes before returning her attention towards the mysterious girl, "Are you scared? It's okay we're... we're human. I'm Kowai, this is Seisaku and that rude boy over there is called Tokudai." Toku huffed, "You don't have to be scared of us, we won't hurt you. We'll look after you until we can find your parents again." The girl still didn't say anything, but the shadows in her eyes lightened, as if she understood. Kowai serached her face for a few more moments before rising and facing Seisaku and Tokudai. "I think she might be mute... but she most definitely is human." Tokudai looked convinced, but Seisaku had his reservations, as he usually did. He was in the habit of studying eyes, as they often revealed things the body hid. If he were the sort to share his personal opinion, he would have told Kowai that nothing in this strange world was ever as it seemed, but Seisaku had learned long ago to keep his thoughts to himself. **/Interlude. Chapter 2.** He studied the rolling landscape of this strange world. It was very different from the cramped and polluted Tokyo streets he was used to. It might have been a dream. Most certainly was, as he couldn't remember exactly how he had found himself here in this strange, exotic jungle. It was a mass of thick vines, red flowers and the faint trickling of water in the back of his mind. Nothing had ever seemed real to Seisaku Ikari in his life except for his dreams. Sometimes he convinced himself that everyday he was living a monotonous purgatory of sorts, and only when he laid his head on his pillow at night did he truly wake and escape it. This is what he dreamed: A light, and then a prism of colors flashing. Fresh air and untouched land. There were faces too, fuzzy ones but still there. People who were important. He knew them as deeply and as personally as he knew himself, yet had the innate knowledge that he hadn't really ever met them. At least not in his "real life". There was a girl, sharp wit and striking dark red hair. She was beautiful, but not in an upfront way and most of it came from her highly admirable traits. Intelligence, loyalty and kindness. Then there was the boy. He was rash and abrupt; very physical. He wore his sports jerseys in arrogance rather than pride and never shut his mouth. Still, despite these irritating traits, Seisaku knew that he adored him. These were the only humans like him in the entire world, and it was strange. There more faces, not human like the brazen boy and smart girl. They were part of the world, but just as alive as Seisaku himself. One was a handsome man in long, flowing robes who was dependable and who carried himself as such. Then there was the little girl who never looked at things, but rather through and around them. The last face was warm and loving, but actually very cold. It was more a creature than a human, locked in chains yet free to roam. Sometimes, his dreams seemed symbolic, but still, very real. This place where he was now was calm. It felt like his dreams, but different. He did not acknowledge that this was a dream. His mind roamed too freely in thought and his body moved with far too much ease. He felt unconstricted and without purpose. He was lucid, but more so was aware. 'This is the place from my dream', he affirmed silently, taking in the way the hills sloped in to meet each other like a puzzle and the strange off-toned colors of the surrounding flora, 'How did I come to be here?' + Tokudai woke up with his face in the damp ground. He shot upwards quickly, coughing and sputtering on the damp grass that had somehow worked it's way into his mouth. "Did you have a nice rest?" He jumped again, spinning to find himself faced with her. That girl who had landed him in detention in the first place. She was kneeling in the grass, her hand folded on her lap and red pigtails falling over her shoulders. He glared. "What the hell is going on here!? Where the hell are we!?" The girl shrugged, "The 'other world'." she said, like it was common sense, "Where else would we be?" "What kind of games are you playing with me, Senbetsu. I'm warning you..." She shook her head and whistled in disbelief, "You really don't remember, do you?" "What are you talking about!?" The girl stood, brushing her hair behind her shoulders and placing a hand over her eyes, scanning the area, "Well, look around for yourself. Maybe it'll come back to you." Tokudai rose slowly, rubbing the back of his neck where it was sore. He cartainly hadn't fallen unconcious in a comfortable position. After observing the rich foilage around him, he turned to follow the girl's gaze and found himself floored once again, this time due to shock. "What the..." There were no buildings, no cars, no smog clouds lingering over this forest. It couldn't have even been rural Japan, as there were no moutains in sight. Aside from that, the fauna was plain bizzare, shaped unnaturally and here and there dotted with colors that just should not be applied to normal, everyday plantlife. "Where the fuck are we..." Tokudai muttered, more of a statement than an actual question. He was aware that he was growing redundant, but frankly didn't care about that sort of thing. "I told you." The girl repeated breezily, "We're in the 'Other World'." Tokudai blinked widely, "The... 'Other World'?..." + "BITCH!" the boy sputtered as he stumbled backwards clutching his raw cheek. "Fucking bitch!" Kowai bit her tounge, reminding herself that someone with such a minisculy pathetic grasp of the Japanese language he must resort to using the most primitive, unintelligent and profane words in it, was not worth her time. Like he would understand half of what she had said... That's what had led to this. Mr. Ikkuya KNEW she didn't work well with *his* type. He KNEW she didn't work well with anyone not at her level of comprehension. He KNEW she was intolerant of idiots who insisted on bantering on about some stupid concert or movie instead of DOING THEIR WORK ... but then again Mr. Ikkuya KNEW she didn't belong in Junior High. She turned her back to her fuming lab partner, and sighed heavily. Another day, another pointless detention. Who cared, it's not like she had anywhere to be. Not like anyone else in the school wanted to be friends with Kowai Senbetsu. Hell, no one even wanted to be caught withen the same ten foot radius as her. The 'orphan'. The 'orphaned stuck up bitch.' They didn't think she heard what they said about her. It's not as if they were exactly discreet about it. ** "What a bitch." "She thinks just cause' she's got a 100 average in, like, EVERYTHING, she can go around treating the rest of us like shit." "Hmph, like she's the ONLY one who's ever been on the Principal's Honor Roll..." "Why don't they just skip her ahead to High School so we don't have to LOOK at her anymore!" "Yeah. Those teachers'll eat her alive. The don't tolerate bitches like her in High School." "I bet she thinks she belongs in Collage or something!" "I KNOW! She is SO full of herself! She's probably thinks we're all clamouring to work with her and her 'genius'!" "Eww... I don't care if she's smart, I never want to be her lab partner again. She's just... weird." "Well, what do you expect. She never knew her mom, and her dad was a total freak." "What do you wanna bet she was happy when he died?" "Huh?" "People like her leech off pitfalls in life like there's no tommorow. She's not likable, so she walks around all like 'woe me, I have no parents' so people'll at least feel sorry for her." "Oh, that is SO true!" ** But it wasn't. When had Kowai even talked about her parents? The only reason everyone knew was because of Mariko Wa, who came over to work on a project, only to discover Miss. Genius lived alone. The room swirled and Kowai allowed herself to swirled with it. She had stopped listening to Mr. Ikkuya and the stupid boy long ago, but now their faint voices melted together into one continuous blur. "... and if I don't see you two here this Saturday cleaning that floor... SENBETSU! KIMAGURE! Are you even listening!?" Kowai snapped back to reality, if for only a moment. "Yeah, whatever." She exited, just like that, not caring that Ikkuya was still screaming at her, and ALLOWING the *idiot* to call after her using those primitive words, especially 'bitch'. Her nickname, it seemed, she heard it whispered among the masses and she walked confidently down the hall. She didn't have to cower. No one came near her. It was if there was some invisible force feild surrounding her, and the path cleared as she walked. Respect through total hatred. She allowed things to blur even further as she fiddled with her locker combination. The world faded in and out and around until the only thing solidifyed in her mind was the lock and it's code. -23- Ever since her father had died, it had happened almost daily. It was if she were bing drawn into some paralell dimension, or some other reality. She felt almost like her being was flickering from one to the next. Like she was living a double life. -16- Sometimes she could even 'see' this paralell world. Not all at once of course, just flashes of it here and there, as if she were looking through a picket fence. One thick strip of reality, blocking her freedom, and one strip, however thin and fleeting, of a marvelous world of depth and life. -32- But when she would work up enough courage to reach for it, it seemed to fizzle at her touch, dissolving instantly, leaving her stranded again in her own reality. -click- The locker swung open, breaking the spell this time. Kowai shook it off, her ragged pigtails tickling her neck. She slowly became aware of the bodies and voices around her as she shoved her schoolbooks into her book bag. She was sure, quite sure as she was everyday before and probably after this, that many of those voices, whispering decietfully, nervous eyes glancing constantly, that they were talking about her. But she didn't care anymore. She slammed her locker shut, and shrugged the bookbag onto her shoulder, regally stalking her way through the halls towards the door. They didn't understand. She was almost there... that other world... + "You really don't remember, do you?" she came closer to Tokudai and tapped on the head. He reeled back, rubbing his head defensively. "Hey! Don't touch me!" "She 'tsk'ed under her breath, "How hard did you hit your head, really? Don't you remember science class?" "The science class?... I think I might..." + The red-head reeled back and slapped him. Tokudai back away a few steps, clutching his cheek where it throbbed red. What the hell had he done to deserve that? "You... bitch!" he stuttered, "You fucking bitch! How DARE you!" "What's going on over here!?" _'Oh great, that's it. I've done it now.'_ Tokudai pressed his wam palm harder into his wounded chin and bowed his head, _'I've gotten the teacher involved in this. I can just hear the phone call to my mother already: "Mrs. Kimagure! Would you believe that your son was mentally damaging our school's brightest student, nevermind that she's a totally self-righteous BITCH, by screaming powerful obscenities at her!" Like red-head there's ever going to get in any toruble. She's smarter than all the students and staff put together. She's practically go the teachers eating out of her hand... and she started it in the first place. If she hadn't slapped me...'_ "... and if I don't see you two here this Saturday cleaning that floor... SENBETSU! KIMAGURE! Are you even listening!?" "Yeah. Whatever." the girl rolled her dark eyes and left. Just like that. "HEY!" Tokudai hollered after her, restrained only by Mr. Ikkuya's strong, chemist's hands on his shoulders, "YOU BITCH! COME BACK HERE AND APOLOGIZE TO ME!" "Save it for detention, Tokudai." Mr. Ikkuya muttered, "In the meantime, you're getting a call home." + "Yeah, I remember science class." Tokudai growled, "I remember that you slapped e and landed my ass in detention. Now, anything else you'd like me to thank you for while we're taking this lovely trip down memory lane." The girl sighed dramatically, "The actual class was not what's important here. Do you remember anything about the detention itself." Tokudai thought hard. + "You bitch." "Bastard." "Bitch." "Bastard." "Fucking bitch." "Just concentrate on mopping, Kimagure. Stop being such an intolerable bastard." "Only after you stop being a bitch." "I am going to terminate this conversation now, as there is no possible objective to it that I can see." Tokudai blinked, 'What the hell did she mean by that?' "Bitch...." + "Yeah, I remember the detention like it was yesterday." "It WAS yesterday genius." "It was a figure of speech." "No, it was a cliche. Big difference." "That's not what they taught us in Literature class." "Yeah, well don't take everything you learn in school for granted." The girl sighed and plopped herself down in the grass again, studying the sky intently, "And obviously you don't remember the detention because you're still wondering why we're here." "What does the detention have to do with anything." "Think, Kimagure, THINK! What happened during the detention." Tokudai scratched his head, "We... exchanged insults." "And very unimaginative ones at that. I mean AFTERWARDS." "Um, well...." + "Looks like all the floors are clean. Good as new! Time to go home and play video games!" + "What kind of a dumbass question is that?" Tokudai chuckled brashly, "We stopped talking and finished cleaning the floors. So I went home to play some Famicom and you... probably lurked in an alley somewhere, waiting for hapless victims to wander by so you could suck their blood." "Ha ha, no." the girl's expression turned dark, "Think harder, Kimagure. I know it's an effort, but please try. This is important. Don't you remember what happened when we were cleaning the computer room? Don't you remember..." here she paused and her infalliable voice cracked, "Do you remember.... Gennai?" + "Gennai!? What kind of weird-ass name is THAT!?" "A very fine one, if I do say myself." "I agree." "That's only because your father programmed it." "Not it. Him." Gennai corrected kindly, the plastered smile never leaving his youthful face, "And eventually even you will learn to appreciate my presence." "Okay, I still don't get it." Tokudai pouted, his lower lip coming up to cover the upper and giving him to apperance of a lost puppy dog, "So, what, you're a computer program come to life and your here to take us to some video game made real?" "No, no, NO!" Kowai shook her head vehemently, "It's not like a video game at all! Weren't you even listening, Kimagure!? It's a world. A REAL world, just... a shadow world. Not like ours, a world made up of entirely data." "But... isn't that just what a video game is?" Tokudai winced, fearing a violent retort from the fiery girl. "No. Video games are digital, this is physical. A real, true, living, breathing world just like our own." "Whoa." Tokudai nodded slowly, not quite sure he understood anything Kowai had just said, "Trippy..." + "I remember... something about a GennaI?" He raised his arm and leveled his hand above his head, "About yae tall? And kinda dressed like some guy from a Star Wards flick?" Kowai stood and made a strangled, fustrated noise, stamping her foot in the dew-laden grass, "No! That's right but you're focusing on the wrong things!" "But you TOLD me to focus on Gennai!" "I didn't tell you to focus on anything!" "But you said: 'Do you remember Gennai?' " "I didn't mean for you to literally remember Gennai and only Gennai! I meant to use his name as a rememberence guide!" "Well, I'm sorry but we all can't be as smart as you!" Kowai smacked her hand against her forehead and spoke even, "Whatever. Forget it. It's not important, anyways, you'll remember eventually. For now, just follow me." she began receeding into the trees. "Wait!" Tokudai jogged a few steps to catch up with her, "That's not fair. At least tell me what's going on! Where are we! I don't understand!" The girl stopped and stared at him with narrow, black eyes, "We are in a digitally constructed shadow-world created by the sudden increase in global computer use and the beginning's of something known as 'The Internet'. Although it is a real and physical place where we can touch, feel, hear, see and smell while interacting with the enviroment, it is still essentially made up of raw data being processed by millions upon millions of computer's worldwide. So, it's a 'Digital World'." "A Digital World..." Tokudai repeated, totally not getting it, "Digiworld!" "Or you could say it that way." Tokudai inhaled sharply and rotated his view of the exotic landscape. He could find nothing else to say except, "Whoa. Trippy." **Interlude.** "Daisuke?" Ken trailed his bloody fingers through his friend's hair while staring absently at their dark surroundings. Daisuke was curled beneath the ceiling of rock awkwardly, his arms twisted beneath him and his legs sprawled in opposite directions, but Ken couldn't find enough room between them to adjust his position. "Daisuke, you're going to die..." he let out a raw sob as his hands travelled downwards, feeling the battered skin beneath torn clothing. He found the wound again, and covered it with his cold hands. It was too dark to see anything, but Ken could imagine what the gaping hole in Daisuke's stomach would look like- skin raw and yellowish around it, the edges collapsing inwards like a sinkhole in the middle of a body. Ken knew what these things looked like. He knew what death looked like, having spent a good portion of his childhood obsessed with it. "Why do you always have to play the hero?" Ken pressed his hand deep against the cut, willing it to stop bleeding as the warm liquid seeped between his fingers and trickled down his knuckles, "You even do it when no one needs a hero. It's selfish, Daisuke, you're just a selfish person always trying to fufill your own personal idea of what a good person should be like just so you can feel good about yourself." the blood wouldn't stop, causing Ken to feel helpless, like a cracked damn beneath the pressure of a great flood, "You know what? The world didn't need a hero today. You didn't have to run towards the light and maybe if you didn't you wouldn't be dying right now." He gave up on the wound, pulling his now red hands away quickly and burying his tear-soaked face in the, not caring that he was smearing blood on his face. His eyes began to sting and he could take it no longer, so he ripped his hands away and bent over, resting his cheek on Daisuke's chest. He sighed shakily, "This death is meant for me. The death is always meant for me... Osamu's, Wormon's and now yours. I don't fear death, you know that. I'd welcome it's embrace, but the bullet always misses and somehow finds it's way to those I need most." he closed his eyes and grimaced, "The world may not need you to be a hero right now, Daisuke, but I do. That's why you're dying right now." he chuckled sharply, bitter, "Maybe I'm selfish too. But here's the difference- you're selfishness saves lives and mine take thems." He reopened his eyes and stared ahead listlessly. It was dark, but there must have been light sneaking into the cavern from somewhere since Ken could see Daisuke's outline clearly and he could trace the pattern of collapsed rocks above, below and around them. Somewhere, there was a faint echo of dripping water. Things weren't right anymore. Ken could feel it in that connection between the worlds he still held from his days as the Kaizer. It was over, lost. Somehow this was both the real and digital world. Ken remebered something. "I've never told anyone this." he whispered into Daisuke's neck, his hand finding the boy's wound again, "But I can do things... it's strange, but in the Digiworld I could always make things happen just by thinking about them. I wonder if..." **/Interlude.** "You want me to what?" It was seven-o-two in the morning and Koushiro Izumi was tired and cranky, having been rudely forced out of a unrestful slumber by the insistant pounding at his small apartment's front door. He slid into his slippers and stumbled towards the door only to find a characteristically exeburant Daisuke Motimaya grinning back at him from the other side. Koushiro hadn't even realized the goggled boy was capable of being awake that early in the morning. "I want you to fix up a motorcycle for me." Koushiro rubbed his eyes sleepily and stared, "Okay, run that by me a third time, Daisuke, because I could have sworn you just said you wanted me to fix up a motorcycle for you." The younger boy nodded, just barely curbing his enthusiasm, "That's exactly what I said. I, um, happened to come by one, but it needs some work. You know, tuning and fixing." Koushiro just shook his head, "I'm a genius, Daisuke, not a mechanic." "What's the difference?" "An idiot could fix a motorcycle. Intellectual types usually dedicate their time towards more... civilized pursuits." "So... you're saying you're too good for my motorcycle." "Yeah." Koushiro yawned noisily, "Something like that." Daisuke shrugged and scratched the back of his neck, smiling apologetically, "Okay. That's cool. Sorry I woke you up so early in the morning." Daisuke turned to leave, but Koushiro blinked and with lightning fast processing skills rethought the entire situation, arriving to a very different conclusion. "Hey! Daisuke, wait." "Hm?" the younger boy looked back. "Forget what I said before. Might be an interesting project." + Fifteen minutes Daisuke and Koushiro stood together under a gray sky in a dusty, abandoned parking lot looking over the vehicle. "Not bad." Koushiro's voice was appraising after having inspected the motorcycle for some minutes, "Considering the brakes are shot, the gear shift broken, the engine unusuable and steering almost non-existant. This thing barely works, Daisuke! Please, please, PLEASE tell me you didn't spend any money on it!" "No, of course not." Daisuke assured hastily, "Some guy was going to chuck it and I just happened to be walking by. He was actually kind of reluctant to give it to me, even for free, but I told him I had a smart friend who would know how to fix it up real good." Koushiro rolled his eyes, but couldn't help allowing a small smile to grace his lips, "Wow. I never knew you held me in such high esteem. I'm honored." Daisuke's eyes widened to saucers, "You mean... you'll really fix it?" Koushiro crossed his arms and sighed, defeated, "Er... yes. Yes. I'll fix it to the best of my limited abilities." Daisuke jumped excitedly, but Koushiro froze his outburst with a dark gaze, "BUT don't expect it to be done anytime soon. It won't be anything more than a side project when I've got some free time off more important matters." "Of course, of course." Daisuke's voice was rushed and impatient and he was practically dancing around, "But the point is that you ARE going to do it." "Yes." "Thank you SO much Izzy! It really means a lot to me. Now, if you'll excuse me I've got to go tell Miyako! She didn't believe me when I told her the first time." As Daisuke left, Koushiro knelt down beside the motorcycle's exposed insides and began mapping it out in his brain, unconciously connecting gears and wires until he understood how the machine worked. It was very different from a computer, but still worked on the basic principle of any machine. It was strange, however, the delicacy of the small vehicle when compared to the general air of manliness it radiated. In a strange way, it was somewhat like Daisuke himself- all brash and hard and coarse on the outside, yet just beneath the skin it felt and frayed very easily. Which made sense to Koushiro, since from his observations people tended to be attracted to inanimate objects that resembled them in indirect ways. They would give these objects names and personalities- just another way of relating to the world around them. _'I guess I do that a bit myself.'_ Koushiro chuckled lightly as he turned towards his makeshift toolbox, searching for a wrench, _'I always have seen a computer's brain and cold mechanalism in myself a bit...'_ he paused, then sighed, thinking fleetingly of the previous night's meeting and Hikari's cold words. He tightened his hands around the wrench and unfocused his gaze, allowing it to lift slightly, _'Though I doubt that's a good thing...'_ + "You're late." Daisuke shrugged and fell into a messy sitting position in the middle of Takeru's living room floor, "Aren't I always?" he retorted, closing his eyes. Miyako sighed and rolled her eyes. "And I don't suppose you remembered your Digivice?" Daisuke's eyes snapped open and he glared at her sharply. He pulled the device out of his pocket and shoved it in her direction, "Hey, you should know that I don't forget the important stuff." he pulled the digivice back and cupped it in his hands protectively, "Anyways, I take V-mon with me everywheres." "I still don't agree with this." Hikari said softly, "It's wrong." "Oh, not this again." Miyako muttered, then coughed loudly as Hikari looked up at her in alarm. "I don't really see a point in it." Ken said quietly, staring at the floor, "It's not really like it's going to change anything." Daisuke shot his friend a severe look, "Ken, what are you talking about. It changes everything!" Ken looked up, "We don't know that Daisuke. If it doesn't work it'll be like you guy are throwing half your lives away for nothing. I don't think I could stand that." "You guys...?" Daisuke raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth as if to say something, but Hikari cut him off. "None of that really matters. All that matters is that this is wrong and we shouldn't even be considering it in the first place. How can we save our world while killing the Digiworld? it goes against all morality!" "Why are you here if you think it's so wrong?" Miyako challenged, standing up and adjusting her glasses, "If you were really against it, you wouldn't have come. We all know you a little better than that, Kari." Hikari turned her head towards the strangely silent Takeru and balled her hands into fists. Miyako rolled her eyes and produced her digivice from within the folds of her jacket, "Well, Iori said that it works something like this..." she closed her eyes and scrunched up her brow as if in deep concentration. She held her digivice forwards and waited. And waited, and waited. "Hey, Miyako!" Daisuke piped up suddenly, "I just remembered something! Do you remember when I told you about that Motorcycle I got?" "MOTIMAYA DAISUKE!" Miyako screeched, opening her eyes and stomping her foot. She very nearly threw her digivice at him before she caught herself and lowered her arm, "What the hell!? You just broke my concentration!" "Not like you were doing anything." Daisuke snorted. "How do you know that!?" she demanded. "Anyways, were you listening? That Motorcycle, right? I took it to Koushiro and he said he'd fix it and stuff. You can ask him- it's true." "I don't care." Miyako groaned and sat down in the tattered armchair she had been sitting in when Daisuke had arrived. She raised her hand and stared at her digivice longingly, "This is harder than Koushiro made it out to be. What exactly are we supposed to do." she paused, then gasped, "You guys don't think that maybe we lost it or something?" "Lost what?" Daisuke wondered. Miyako shrugged, "I don't know. Our qualities- those defining aspects of our crests. Maybe we've changed too much to be able to do it anymore." "It's possible." Takeru hmm'ed, speaking for the first time. "No it's not." Ken interjected. Everyone turned to look at him. He heightened his gaze sheepishly, but continued, "Even if we have changed, it's not so much our virtues that affect our relationship with the Digiworld itself- it's just our predestiny. Er..." he trailed off, "It's confusing, I guess, but no matter what we do we can still manipulate the data. We're digidestined, it's what we're meant to do." "How do you know all that?" Daisuke blinked rapidly and Ken blushed slightly. "I... I don't know." he hesitated, "Well... it was something I-I mean the Kaizer was interested in." "Can you do it?" Miyako asked. Ken nodded. "Yeah. It's not difficult... but it's not the same for everyone. I don't need Wor-" he cut himself off and stood, "Well, I can show you. Just watch." He took a few steps forwards and pressed three fingers to his temple and extended the other hand. He closed his eyes and tightened his lips. Without much forewarning, the space near Takeru's door began to twist and distort until it became dark and muddy, mixed with flashes of water and blue sky. Daisuke leapt to his feet and looked as if he couldn't decide whether to go to Ken or jump off the balcony. Hikari and MIyako both jumped from their seats as every light in the house switched on simultaneously with a loud spark. Takeru, however, remained seated on his sofa, watching Ken with a focused expression. With a gasp, Ken dropped his hand and let it go. With as little commotion as things changed, they went back to normal. Ken wavered on his feet, paler than usually and shivering. Daisuke acted quickly and rushed forwards, catching Ken by the shoulders as the boy fell. He allowed his hands to linger there as Ken gained his composure- it was a tender gesture, which was not exactly out of place in the rather ambiguous interactions of Daisuke Motimaya and Ken Ichijouji, but Daisuke still blushed when Ken leaned back into him, taking a deep breath and wiping his brow. "What the fuck just happened?" he asked under his breath. "Language, Daisuke." Ken whispered, his voice shaky and his body still trembling. "Right. Sorry, Ken." Hikari slowly lowered herself back into her seat, but Miyako remained standing, shaking her head slowly, "Ken, whatever you just did... it was some seriously mondo-stuff." she stopped shaking her head and stared at the black-haired boy searchingly, "What... what exactly was it that you did?" Ken spun out of Daisuke's arms and faced the group, "That's what I was hoping you could tell me, Miyako. It's what Koushiro was talking about- you should have been able to see how it was done." "Well, we DID see it." Daisuke interjected helpfully, "Some weird shit went on and then all the lights went haywire, but what does that have to do with anything?" "Language, Daisuke- and that's not what I meant." Ken sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling as if by staring at the ceiling he could explain himself better, "I meant that you should have _felt_ or _sensed_ something different in the air as I shifted the data, then figured it out from there." "Yes, that's exactly it." Takeru stood and nodded gravely, "I think I understand. I can do it." "Takeru!" Hikari gasped, shooting her boyfriend a betrayed look, "You can't! You of all people should know this is wrong!" "That's enough Hikari!" Takeru didn't quite yell, but his voice contained a sharp and hostile edge to it that caused the child of Light to draw back and let out a wet sob, "What's wrong with you? Don't you understand that this is the only chance we have! You're acting totally out of character here! Who was it used to soothe the group whenever we had to do something difficult? You're playing my brother's part now- festering dissention and feeding our doubts." Hikari wore an expression of horror intertwined with terror. For a few seconds, it seemed as if she were going to cry but it must always be taken into account that Yagami Hikari was cut from the same mold as the invincible Taichi, child of courage. She gathered herself and stood, standing almost toe-to-toe with Takeru and painting on her face a most formidable expression, "What's happened to me? What's happened to you, Takeru Takaishi? Gaurdian of Hope going for the quick fix? You're playing MY brother's part, TK, jumping immedietly at the quickest and easiest solution without even the slightest consideration for the lives affected as long as it isn't your own!" she spun on her heel and stuck her nose in the air, "I've never heard anything so selfish in my entire life! You all whine about how much you want to see the Digimon again, but in the end if it comes down to us or them, you're all ready to forget about that friendship and save your own tails. DIsgusting." Takeru seethed. He was deathly still and the tension in the room rose. Miyako and Daisuke, looking on, thought perhaps that Hikari had won this particular battle, but just as the assumption was beginning to take root, the blonde boy grabbed Hikari's shoulders and violently spun her to face him. "Dammnit, Hikari! Would you quit being so ignorant! Don't you understand, it's not us or them- it's us or nothing!" "That's just an excuse." Hikari scoffed. "No it's not!" Takeru shook her and Daisuke and Miyako shot each other surprised looks, "It's taken me two years to understand, but you're alot smarter than me. If you'd just open your eyes, you'd see that it's not about perserving us at the expense of them... it about perserving ANYTHING! Both worlds are falling apart and it's impossible to save both, the least we can do is save ours!" "But... but the Digiworld..." "Is already too far gone!" Takeru shouted, "It's dead, Hikari! We can never get it back! It's gone forever and as much as we sit here and we hope and we pray there is no way in HELL that we are ever going to be able to see Patamon and Gatomon again!" Takeru reeled back as he said these words, as if he were shocked that he had said them. The life seemed to flow out of Hikari and she went as pale as a sheet. Miyako made a strangled noise and fell back into her chair while Daisuke simply clutched his digivice to his heart. There was a long moment of stagnent and painful silence before Hikari began crying. Takeru's face softened and he gulped, awkwardly placing a strong hand on Hikari's shoulder, "I... I'm sorry, Kari. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean what I said, I just..." "Don't touch me." Hikari hissed, wrenching herself from his grip, "Never touch me again, you bastard." she refused too look at him as he attempted a stuttering apology, "You make me sick." she cried through tears, "You all make me sick!" she grabbed her jacket and burst out the door and leaving it slamming shut loudly in her wake. Takeru sat down numbly, his face void of expression. His head dropped and his shoulders heaved once, "Shit." he muttered. "I've never seen Kari so angry." Miyako murmered, amazed. She reached into one of her jacket pockets and pulled out a cigarette and her lighter. She fiddled with the joint on the lighter three times before producing a flame. "You'd better not light one of those up in here." Daisuke said tonelessly from where he was slumped against the wall, running his thumb and and down the length of his digivice, "Ken will have your head, right Ken?" Miyako let the flame fall from her lighter and blinked, "Where did Ken go?" she wondered, alarmed. Takeru and Daisuke both looked up to see that Ken was, indeed, gone. Takeru shook his head sadly, "He must have left when Kari and I were arguing." "I don't blame him." Miyako commented, finally lighting her cigarette. Daisuke sighed and returned his attention to his digivice worriedly, "The world is fucked up." + Ken sighed against the wind and examined the graying sky with minimal interest. He almost spoke before Hikari passed him, but managed to catch her just as her shoulder brushed his on her way out of the apartment complex. "Do you mean to tear us apart?" he asked quietly. She turned and set upon him a vicious gaze, "And what makes you think you're qualified to ask that question, Digimon Emperor Ken." Ken winced as if the words stung him physically, "Hikari, this is nothing like you. What's happened?" Hikari shrugged nochalantly, "Times change, Ichijouji, and people change with them. Are you on my side or not?" "It's not that simple, Hikari, and you know that." Hikari threw her arms into the air, "Everyone assumes I know everything! You know what, I think I'm tired of being the voice of reason no matter what my personal beliefs in the matter are! Maybe, sometimes things are just that simple, Ken. So, either you're with me, or your with my brother!" and with that she was gone. 


End file.
